


Black and White; Death and Life

by TomThomas101



Category: Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Gen, Heavy Angst, Self-Esteem Issues, Tony Stark Feels, Tony Stark Has Issues, Tony Stark Needs a Hug, self hatred
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-13
Updated: 2019-02-13
Packaged: 2019-10-27 10:02:08
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,442
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17764670
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TomThomas101/pseuds/TomThomas101
Summary: 'The heart rate monitor deadlines and the pain stops. The suffering has come to an end but the stench of guilt still remains.'The doctors had always said that his heart would go before his liver which was a miracle considering all the grief he had put it through all these years. They were right, this just wasn't the way he had pictured going.





	Black and White; Death and Life

He staggers into the dark, derelict alleyway, immediately stumbling into the wall and falls to his knees. His chest expands quickly, too quickly and he gasps desperately for breath. The ever present ache fills his lungs, reminding him of the inevitable end. 

Suddenly, he vomits onto the dirty, concrete ground and stares in horror. There is blood on the ground. Blood, that had just come from his mouth. 

He glances towards the main road fearfully. There is no one near and he sighs in relief. Somewhere, deep within his mind, he knows that there are people looking for him. Searching for him, because they care. He doesn’t know why. He is broken, unable to be fixed. They just don’t know it yet. 

He hopes they never do.

”Tony!” Someone calls, running towards him, ”Tony!”

Who is Tony? 

A long-forgotten feeling stirs within him at the name and a hazy memory rises before his eyes. It’s blurry. He doesn’t know why he remembers it but he knows it correlates to that familiar name. He knows it. It’s right on the tip of his tongue but he can’t remember where he has heard it before.

Crouching down next to him, they start to gently shake him. He doesn't know why. All they are doing is hurting him. He just wants them to stop… Attempting to push them away, he tries to lift a hand but can’t muster the energy. 

When he doesn’t visibly react, they start sobbing violent tears into his torn, dirty shirt. They are heart wrenching cries, the sound of someone who has had their whole world ripped away. He wants them to stop crying. He doesn't know who this person is, but he doesn’t want them to be crying over him. For some reason, he cares. 

He can’t remember the last time he cared. He can only remember heartbreak, pain and a staggering feeling of betrayal. 

A flash of blond hair streaks across his mind followed by a petite face surrounded by red hair looking at him apologetically along side a dirty-blond man. They both follow the blond. They both leave him alone. 

”Tony, please. Hold on. I’ve called the ambulance as well as Bruce. Just hold on until they get here.” Her voice brakes and she pauses but after a moment she continues speaking. ”Everything will be fine. The ambulance will get here and they’ll take you to hospital and you’ll be fine. You’ll be fine. Everything will be fine.”

He is not sure if she is trying to reassure him or herself but he knows its useless either way. He is going to die. The doctors have already made their estimates. He is on borrowed time. 

After what seems like a lifetime, the ambulance comes in a whirr of activity. Paramedics swarm around him and gently lift him onto a stretcher. They inject something into his arm but he doesn’t feel a thing. 

Should he?

He hears the screaming of the woman as she is pulled away from him. He understands. He doesn’t want her to leave either. 

The ambulance drive passes in a blur, with the paramedics talking in hushed tones above him. He feels like he should listen in, should try and figure out how long he has left but he doesn’t. He doesn’t care anymore. 

He fades in and out of consciousness as they rush him into the hospital. He knows he should try to hold on, to delay the inevitable. He tries. He really does. But his eyes close against his will and darkness overtakes his vision. 

This is the worst part. Lying there, unable to move, unable to see the light but not unconscious either. He feels like he is in the limbo between life and death, holding on by a thread. The thread is fraying and he isn’t sure if he wants to keep fighting. 

He feels himself being lifted onto a soft hospital bed and an IV being plugged into his arm. It is like having an out-of-body experience. He knows it will not be long before he moves on. 

The door to his room opens suddenly and three people enter, crowding into his small, white hospital room. He looks at them and suddenly their names and associated faces float to the foreground of his mind. 

”Pep-per…Bruce…Rhodey…” His voice is raspy with disuse and breaks part way through the first name. 

His eyes search the room for something, he isn’t sure what. The same memory from before rises and a pang of heartbreak erupts as the red-head and her friend walk away from him. He still can’t place them but he knows they were important to him. He knows he cared. 

Bruce seeing his straying gaze and bows his head murmuring, ”The others aren’t coming. We called them but…”

He closed his eyes as realisation came to him. The others. His teammates. They abandoned him. 

Natasha must have realised that something was wrong. After all, she had been there last time something like this had happened. He had learnt his lesson about trusting her but he had thought that they had been teammates, colleagues. They worked well together and he had thought that after everything he had done, she might have come to respect him a little bit. 

He was wrong. Iron Man, yes, Tony Stark, not recommended. How could he ever forget. 

Barton was also a spy but he didn’t have the same experience Natasha had concerning him. He had known as soon as Barton first crashed at the tower that they would either be the best of friends or worst of enemies. They were too similar for it to work any other way. He had hoped that they were well on their way to becoming friends, even though he was a bit slow to trust him at first but obviously not.

Steve. Steve hurt the most. He had looked up to the good captain ever since he was little. Even when Howard skipped his birthday because he was out searching for Captain America, he couldn’t find it in himself to hold a grudge. It was Captain America after all. 

When he met Steve for the first time, he stuffed up. Surrounded by all the others, he had reverted back to his media personality - his first defence. Steve hadn’t liked that and it had set the tone for all their interaction since. 

He had just wanted the legendary Captain America to like him… 

Raising his head, he eyes them all, half-hearted wondering why they are there. Deep down, he knows. He knows they care but admitting it makes leaving them a lot harder. 

Pepper collapses into terrified sobs and somehow he knows that it was her that found him in that alleyway. He hates that he put her through that. He never wanted to hurt any of them. 

The heart rate monitor quickens and Pepper gasps, Rhodey grasping her shoulder. His oldest friend looked at him, pain in his eye. ”I’m so sorry Tony. I should have noticed… I should have done something…” 

He sees the creases in Rhodey’s ageing face deepen as a frown settles on it. He can almost see the self-loathing and guilt Rhodey is putting himself through. 

He doesn’t want this. He doesn’t want any of it. Rhodey shouldn’t have to bear the guilt for something that is his fault. 

He opens his mouth to speak, to say something to reassure Rhodey but he can’t say the words. The voice that had protected him from the many horrors of the world had abandoned him when he needed it the most. 

Just like everything else in his life. Apart from the three in the room with him. They had stood by him when hope had deserted him. Rhodey had rescued him from Afghanistan and Pepper had been there for him in the aftermath. Bruce had become his science buddy, the friend he never knew he needed. 

He doesn’t want to leave them like this. 

He can’t bear to see their pain-stricken faces so he turns away. With that movement, he feels his heart skip a beat and closes his eyes in dread. He doesn’t want it to happen in front of them. In front of his family. He ran away so this wouldn’t happen. He never wanted to hurt them, those he considered blood. 

His eyes slowly become too heavy to keep open and he lets go completely, just wanting the suffering to stop. 

One last breath and it would all be over. 

The heart rate monitor deadlines and the pain stops. The suffering has come to an end but the stench of guilt still remains.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm open to prompts so if you have any just email me at larat9999@gmail.com. Also if anyone has any tips or suggestions about how I can improve either the story or just my writing in general either drop a comment or email me.


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